


Don't You Know (Do the Sweet Talk For Me)

by Ceris_Malfoy



Series: Season One Alternates [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha!Peter, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Always-a-girl!Stiles, Clever!Stiles, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Intrigued!Peter, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack Dynamics, The Author Regrets Nothing, canon up until Night School, dubious everything really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 06:51:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceris_Malfoy/pseuds/Ceris_Malfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm not afraid of you," she says, voice trembling because she <i>is</i> afraid.<br/>"You must be Stiles," he says, smiling because he's already won, and she doesn't even know it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't You Know (Do the Sweet Talk For Me)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm being eaten alive with fic ideas. Yet another one to add to the pile. XD

“I’m not afraid of you,” she says as she holds her flashlight up to the grated window on the boiler-room door. Scott is on her side, whimpering, practically shaking with his own fear. She is scared too, no matter what she says, but she is also too curious for her own good.

She gets only a split second to see bright crimson eyes staring back at her before a massive paw-like hand slams against the grated window, startling her bad enough to land her on her ass beside Scott. There is a sharp cracking sound when she lands and her breath leaves her in a rush. She feels a deep, pounding ache settling in the base of her spine, and she knows without having to move that she won’t be running anywhere for the rest of the night.

The boiler-room door shudders as the alpha rams against it. Everything they piled in front of the door shakes and moves several inches. _Fuck_. It rams against the door again. And again.

“Scott, run,” she says, gasping as the pain spiking up and down her spine steals her breath with its intensity. She can’t tear her eyes off the door, watching as it shudders against the strength of an alpha werewolf. Already it’s heavily dented in the middle, the metal groaning sickly with every forceful thud.

“Stiles,” Scott whines, shifting awkwardly on his feet. He doesn’t want to leave her, and while his loyalty makes something inside of her go soft and gooey, they don’t have time for that.

“Listen to me, Scott,” she says, looking up at him, ignoring the way the boiler-room door suddenly stops shuddering beneath the force of the alpha’s blows, like it is listening to her as well. She shies away from that thought. While realistically she knows that the alpha is just another werewolf, which means human intelligence and ability to reason, she is far more comfortable with thinking the alpha is nothing more than a mindless, overgrown animal. “The alpha is after you, not me. I can’t run, Scott, and you can’t carry me without slowing yourself down.” She tries to smile at him, knowing she fails to reassure him by the way he’s frowning at her.

“I’m not just going to _leave_ you, Stiles,” he says in his Very Serious voice.

She huffs at him. “Dude. Think of it this way: the alpha wants _you_ , Scott. If you run before he escapes, he’ll chase you, leaving me here to pathetically inch my way to safety.”

Scott whines again, a subvocal manifestation of his combined fear and anxiety. Stiles would feel bad for him, but right now, all she’s concerned with is getting Scott away from here.

“He could kill you first, and I wouldn’t be here to help!” Scott finally bursts out.

Well, yeah. That was the _point_. She doesn’t want Scott here to see her messy death, doesn’t want to see Scott’s demise should he maintain enough control to deny the alpha, and _definitely_ doesn’t want the alpha to win and use her as their ‘bonding kill.’ Stiles rolls her eyes, projects as much of her usual sasstastical awesomeness as she could, trying to pretend that she isn’t sending Scott off so that she could spare him. “Scott, no offense, but if you stay, he’ll kill _both_ of us. If you leave now, we both might have a chance.”

There is a long moment of silence, Scott staring at her, the supposedly-crazed alpha silent in his temporary prison, and Stiles concentrating on breathing through the pain. She doesn’t think she’s broken anything, but her tailbone is definitely bruised, if not out-right fractured.

Scott shuffles again, looks at the boiler-room door, then back at her. “I’m going straight to the Argents,” he says, and darts off.

Stiles feels her heart break, just a little. She knows Scott is terrified of daddy-Argent. She knows that he is terrified of what Kate Argent will do once she discovers Scott’s a beta. She knows what he is risking by going to them. “Good luck,” she whispers, then proceeds to inch her way as carefully as she can down the hallway.

The alpha is suspiciously silent.

She wracks her brains, trying to remember the layout of the school, trying to remember if there is another way out of the boiler-room. There isn’t, as far as she knows. But, for all she knows, the alpha can teleport. At this rate, she doesn’t think anything would surprise her.

***

Peter shifts back slowly, carefully.

The alpha-form is heady in how powerful it is, but, as he’s suddenly learned, that power comes with a bit of a price. Like the loss of his higher-functioning thought processes, apparently. He sighs as he bends over to pick up the keys that the girl threw. He dangles them in front of his eyes, a wry grin slipping across his face.

How clever of her, to assess the situation so clearly and trap him. How strange a creature she is, to not be content with just trapping the alpha werewolf that she had just seen eviscerate another human being just a few minutes prior. He jingles the keys again and hums thoughtfully. His beta is proving to be rather troublesome, resistant in the extreme to the pull of his alpha. Peter knows why – he is far from fully healed yet, and his mental stability isn’t quite, well, stable – but it is rather frustrating, to say the least. He wonders absently if he’s been going about this the wrong way.

His plan tonight had been to force his beta to kill his pseudo-pack, to leave his beta with no one to turn to but him. But the girl. _Stiles_. Such a clever girl. So very human, so very fragile, and yet…. That tiny slip of a human teenager who stank of fear and anger and yet dared to stare down a predator and _sass_ him. A girl who, if what he’s heard from his nephew’s spotty reports, has been with his beta since day one, researching and teaching and helping him cope with the changes his body and mentality were going through. A girl who is not afraid to provoke his nephew into rages; who, if Derek was to be believed, likely did it intentionally to take Derek’s attention away from the newly turned beta.

A girl who already instinctively knows what it is to be pack. A girl who is already willing to do whatever it takes to protect her pack-brother. A girl who is currently injured enough to trap her in this school with him all by her lonesome.

He doesn’t necessarily require a mate to make a pack, but claiming one would solidify his claim to the Hale territory in the eyes of other packs. Claiming a mate would also have the benefit of solidifying his frayed mental state much better than the claiming of a mere beta, which would in turn make denying him so much harder for his wayward beta to do. Claiming this girl in particular would tie said beta closer to him. It would also present a rather interesting challenge, to circumvent her fear and better judgement in order to claim her properly.

He smiles. Jingles the keys again. This is going to be _fun_.


End file.
